Conscience
by thatswhyyyoudont
Summary: Slash. Izaya has a rare attack of conscience and self-loathing. Shizuo doesn't help.
1. Chapter 1

It's not like he was never aware of the things that went on. The other things, the dark side of the already blackened underbelly; trafficking, torture, other nameless acts at the hands of those he worked with. Just because he would have nothing to do with it did not make him ignorant, or stupid.

"You think you're too good for this," one of them had sneered at him, when he had refused to be involved in such an operation for a hefty cut. He gets a lot of these taunts. A lot of these offers. He doesn't know when it started to sicken him. Why this offer in particular riles him so.

Masaomi bugs him about it afterwards, oblivious.

Izaya's stalking away with it building inside him, and Masaomi has to jog to keep up, weaving after him through the crowds.

"What's up with you?" He says, and he actually laughs. "Why not take it? It was a good offer."

Izaya stops so suddenly, Masaomi nearly smacks into him."Because this is fucking appalling, Masaomi!" He thows the phone, the one he's been keeping for those bastards, and it smashes against a shop wall. A few people turn to look, as he is yelling now, he is losing his composure for the first time.

"You should hate this, and you should hate yourself for not seeing it. We are horrible people!"

Masaomi takes a step back. He is staring. Everyone is staring.

Izaya forces himself to breathe. He knows the people staring won't be just strangers.

He leaves the phone in bits on the ground, and Masaomi doesn't follow.

* * *

His hands shake on the front door key.

Safe in his apartment, alone, he almost laughs. Where on Earth had _that_ come from? He is such a hypocrite, such a terrible human being, how can he not laugh?

But he doesn't laugh. He has a drink instead. Not a typical indulgence, but he can't stop shaking.

He takes the wine over to the window and sits with his knees up, forehead on the glass. The wine helps.

He's well into his second glass when there's a knock on the door. A series of thuds would be a more apt description. He knows this announcement.

It is the protozoan, come for another round of catharsis after a presumably bad day. Izaya should point out to him that catharsis has been scientifially proven to not work. It is not the healthiest of habits.

"I know you're in there, flea," the brute bellows. "I can see your light."

Izaya doesn't move. He's not in the mood. He eyes what's left of his wine, drinks another third of it.

"It's open," he calls eventually, when it becomes obvious Shizuo isn't going away.

He still doesn't get up when Shizuo lets himself in. He folds his arms around his knees, the held glass awkwardly in one hand.

Shizuo stops when he sees it and frowns. He keeps his distance, as if he's too hypocritical to start a fight with someone who's inebriated. He'd never admit it, but Izaya knows he's itching for Izaya to get up and goad him, to get out his knives and make the trip worth his while.

But Izaya doesn't provoke him. He wonders, dully, if Shizuo can sense something's up. He's no longer shaking, the wine took care of that, but he stays curled in his chair, and Shizuo is clearly wondering why.

"Are you even listening to me?" he growls now. He had been ranting about the last thing Izaya did to him, but it is subdued even for him; he just wants an excuse.

"I'm listening, Shizu-chan." Izaya pinches the bridge of his nose. No-one would ever believe the amount of listening he did in his line of work. Being considered so corrupt, so evil, himself, people felt safe telling him everything. _Everything._

"I saw your little temper tantrum."

Izaya looks at him. Just his luck. But Shizuo has no right to comment on anyone's temper tantrums.

He takes a final sip of wine and sets his glass down.

"I'm tired, Shizu-chan."

But he gets up anway to show willing.

"You've fucked up my day plenty of times when I've been tired."

"I don't recall specifically coming to your house late at night to do so."

His voice has started to climb again, and he has to take a breath.

Shizuo is staring at him.

Izaya shrugs, approaches him normally.

"Let's get this over with."

Shizuo kisses him like he wants to it to last, like he doesn't want it to go further, although Izaya can feel the urgency in his arms; he's holding on hard enough to hurt. He pulls back before Izaya expects him to.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might want more than this?"

Izaya thinks for a moment that he must have misheard him, that the wine's getting to him.

"Huh?"

Shizuo holds him at arm's length, those stupid glasses masking his eyes.

"This." Shizuo squeezes him for emphasis.

Izaya blinks at him. He rests his hands on Shizuo's shoulders, feigning nonchalance.

"If that's how you feel, you're perfectly free to pursue something more worthy of your time. No-one's forcing you to come here."

Shizuo growls again, and Izaya thinks he will push him then, maybe hard enough to go back into the glass, but he only grips harder.

"Did it ever occur to you that I might want to actually sleep here now and then? That it could fucking go somewhere?" He looks away, as if hearing how ridiculous it sounds, but he doesn't let go. He shakes his head. "If we're going to keep doing this, I don't want there to be anyone else."

Izaya stares at him. This has been, without doubt, the strangest night of his life.

"There isn't anyone else," Izaya hears himself saying. "At least, on my side of things."

Shizuo just looks at him.

"What's up with you tonight?"

It's not accusatory, just curious.

Izaya shifts under his hands, avoiding his eyes. He ignores the question.

"So that's an ultimatum, is it? All or nothing?"

Shizuo shrugs. Loosens his hold. "It's not like you have to decide right now." He pulls Izaya in again, but Izaya puts his hands out to stop him.

"Go away, would you, Shizu-chan?" He knows it's the wrong thing to say, at the worst time, and he can't bring himself to look Shizuo in the eyes as he says it, but he's too freaked out. "I'm tired."

He steps out of his arms. Shizuo lets him, and Izaya feels the loss of warmth as he does.

"Whatever."

Izaya sinks back into the chair as he retreats, pulls up his knees again.

"Shizuo," he blurts, when the other man's almost at the door. It comes out almost panicked.

Shizuo pauses, turns back to look at him curled up, hanging on to his knees.

For a moment, he doesn't want to be alone, doesn't want Shizuo to go.

Then it passes, and he knows he's in no state to let Shizuo near him. He shakes his head.

"I'll call you."

Shizuo looks at him strangely. He looks almost as if he's about to say something. Then he shakes his head and walks out, leaving him alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Izaya puts his head back on the glass when Shizuo's gone. What on Earth had _that_ been about? He doesn't want to think about it. He has too much to think about as it is.

Masaomi calls him. He's not in the mood. He ignores the text that follows too.

A helicopter flies overhead. He watches its progress with disinterest.

His eyes are lidded, the wine dulling him, until he jumps when what sounds like shots are fired. The noise goes through him like an electric shock.

Men are shouting, bawling beneath him. A car alarm is going off. He snatches up his phone and dials without looking.

"What was that? Where are you?"

"I don't know, I just got outside. People are fucking running."

"Come back in. Come back up."

"Yeah, yeah, I am." He sounds vaguely annoyed. This sort of thing has become so common, it's more of a nuisance than an actual threat. Izaya hears the ping of the elevator in the background. "You see anything from up there?"

"No, it's too dark. Probably just another gang war."

"Probably. Not some shit you started?"

"It's not, for once. I try to keep business away from my home life. Hurry up."

"I can't control the fucking elevator, Izaya," he snaps, and hangs up.

He lets himself back in the apartment moments later.

Izaya ignores him, busy staring at a text from Masaomi. He feels like he's waking up after a long, long time, but he only left Masaomi an hour ago, and Shizuo minutes ago.

 _Please call me._

"Fucking gang wars," Shizuo complains. He drops on to Izaya's couch and turns on the news. He cocks his head, indifferent, to Izaya's side of the conversation.

"You've what? _Masaomi_. All right. Calm down. Do I have to come and get you? Yes, go to your parents, go right now. It doesn't matter. They won't care, Masaomi, believe me. Do you want me to - OK. Good. Call me when you do."

He throws the phone aside in disgust.

"Some people are so stupid, it makes me want to chew my own hands off."

Shizuo spares him a glance.

"Thought you had nothing to do with it?"

The phone rings again before he can reply. He groans, leans over for it.

"Hi Mom. Yeah, I saw the news. I'm fine. I'm at home. Of course I'm staying inside. I don't know, I can't see anything. There's a helicopter and I can hear sirens, it'll be over soon. Don't worry. Yeah, I will. Love you."

He puts the phone down, looks at the forgotten wine with vague disgust. He already feels hungover, sickly and slow. Hhe leaves it to go and kneel on the couch, dumping his head on Shizuo's shoulder.

Shizuo stiffens, like he doesn't know what he's meant to do with this.

The news drones around them. The sirens get louder, closer.

"I wouldn't want to be your mother," Shizuo tells him, when it becomes clear Izaya isn't going to move or initiate anything further. "The shit you cause."

"Mm."

He keeps his eyes closed as the sirens stop somewhere below them, and the yelling peters out.

Another text comes from Masaomi.

 _In car with Dad.  
_

 _Good_ , he replies. _Moron_ , he almost adds, but it'd be calling the kettle black.

He puts his head back on Shizuo's shoulder and watches the news with one eye, but it's just repeating itself.

"Looks like it is just another gang war," Shizuo comments.

"Yeah." He doesn't move. He struggles to come back to himself. "I should have left you out there."

"Surprised you didn't," he retorts.

"Oh, you know me. Full of surprises."

Shizuo sighs, shifts just slightly so he's more relaxed, more comfortable.

"It's probably fine to go back out now," he remarks.

Izaya takes no notice.

"What's up with _you_ tonight, protozoan?" He feels Shizuo stiffen again. "What made you say what you did?"

"I…I don't know. I just don't like doing this. But, forget it. Forget I said anything."

Now it is Izaya who stiffens.

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter, just forget it."

He snorts.

"I barely lean on you and you change your mind."

"It's not that," he barks. His whole body tenses with it, but Izaya doesn't move off him, and Shizuo doesn't push him away.

"Then stay the night," Izaya hears himself saying. "You said you wanted to sleep here."

"That was just an example. It doesn't have to be right now."

"All right. I'm just saying."

Shizuo changes channel, not really stopping for any of them.

"What's up with you?" he growls again. "Tonight," he adds, in case Izaya thinks he's commenting on his mental state in general. Izaya almost laughs at the hypocrisy.

"I don't know," he mutters. He shifts and stretches his legs out, pressing his sore eyes into Shizuo's shoulder.

Shizuo wisely doesn't pursue it.

He finds some stupid series to watch, and Izaya lets it wash over him with his eyes closed. Shizuo doesn't say anything else, but he doesn't go home.


End file.
